Traitor Or Friend?
by sheshe21
Summary: Part 3 to Taking Chances. As the blood Angel drinks brings out more of his dark instincts, both Wes and Cor face their hidden fears. Signs of the prophecy are fulfilled, and Holtz's plot thickens when things begin to build to a dangerous climax.
1. Chapter 1: Right As Rain

**A/N:** _Part three! Part three! Finally, part three! If you are reading this without reading the two before, (Taking Chances and Treacherous Prophecies) then you might get lost reading this without the facts in the other two. Read them first, then come back and enjoy the conclusion of the three part series._

_Also, sorry for the long absence. Between a computer virus, work, and my intense music study for Piano teaching; I literally haven't the time to just sit and write like I want to. I hope this last installment of the 'Taking Chances' series pleases you great reviewers and readers as much as it did me writing it. _

**Setting: **Season 3. The episodes of Loyalty and Sleeptight.

**Disclaimer: **_**I... Do... Not... Own... Or... Make... Any... Money... For... This... Ficiton. Understand? Joss, ANGEL and all the main characters are yours, David Greenwalt's (I think), and if I'm correct, Mutant Enemy. I hope you leave them to me in your will.**_

**Traitor Or Friend?**

**Part 3**

**Chapter 1: Right As Rain **

Hyperion Hotel

Cordelia had to admit sleeping at her apartment had done her some good. Of course, she knew a great deal of her happier mood was because of her friendly, best-dead-friend-ghost, Dennis. Gotta give credit to where credit was due.

After Angel had given her the details of his conversation with Wes and his advice, she wasn't a happy camper. But not wanting to appear as a clingy girlfriend, she reluctantly agreed. In the end, telling someone all her fears and details of the nightmare without the fear of being judged or causing a major guilt trip, felt like being at an emotional spa. Dennis was definitely a good friend for listening to her. Not to mention the comfort food he brought her or how he suffered willingly through all her favorite chick flicks.

Now, as she gazed at the entrance doors to the Hyperion, she didn't feel so frightened or panicky... Okay, maybe she does feel queasy and a little unsettled about the whole Angelus thing, but since she had an Angelus dream free night, things with Angel and she wasn't so scary in the light of day. Today was a new day, and nothing was going to ruin her good mood. Not even if it suddenly rained tiny, petite, power house blonds.

"Morning' everyone. There better be a chocolate donut left."

"I saved some for ya!" Fred said eagerly, picking up one chocolate glazed donut and presenting it to her friend with the eagerness of a puppy.

"Aww! Thanks Fred. At least _someone _is thoughtful enough to save me some."

"You know the rules, Barbie. You snooze, you lose."

"Those rules don't apply to me."

Cordeila smirked as she took a bite from the donut goodness. She closed her eyes, thankful for the simple pleasures in life.

"Here you go! Coffee made and prepared just the way you like it."

Cordy looked at the coffee mug in Fred's hands. And it was made just the way she preferred it. A couple of tablespoons of hot cocoa mix, some regular creamer, a couple of packs of sweeten low and some whip cream topping the hot steaming liquid with chocolate sprinkles and a cherry on top for added affect. The good feeling she had was now leaving.

"Crap! Who died? Was it Buffy again? Another apocalypse popping up to doom us all to hell?"

"What? No! Cordy, it's just coffee... Made the way you like it."

The sinking feeling of dread had lifted as Mr. Sunshine reappeared. "This was just you being you; all nice and thoughtful?"

Fred's brown eyes shifted around as a blush faintly touched the apples of her cheeks. "You don't have to drink it or-"

"No. No, I'll take it... Mmmm, perfect."

Fred grinned.

"But honestly, I still think this was spurred on by something."

Cordy sighed as the young woman fidgeted. "Maybe because of my freaky actions yesterday and the night before last?"

"You're gonna be alright, right? 'Cause you're the heart and when something's wrong with the heart, everything else suffers and dies. Then the body and organs goes through different stages of decomposition and eaten by bacteria and maggots and other little critters."

The Texan really was sweet, but she obviously has been hanging around Angel a little too much. Or maybe the Pylean suns had scarred a certain part of the sanity section of her brain. Her morbid metaphors were proof of that.

"Don't worry, I'm better. None of you have to worry about me having any more _episodes_... No, you're gonna have to worry about my boyfriend whose currently on his way down to show you guys some things he bought. Don't wig out when he flashes his goofy grin and jumps around and squeals like a girl. He's just excited about Connor's things."

Gunn, who was sitting on the counter playing his game boy, chuckled. "What, you psychic now?"

"Hey, I want you guys to see what I got for Connor!"

Gunn and Fred looked up at the vampire running down the stairs, carrying the large, brown box that was delivered two days ago. Cordy grinned as she sat down in her office chair, nibbling on her donut and sipping her coffee.

"Well, I am vision girl with new demon powers. Skip did say that the demon side would be showing up here and there unexpectedly."

Gunn's eyes widened to Cordy's amusement. "I may even be able to turn certain people into something unnatural with my glowy powers... for always hogging the chocolate donuts."

Her smile was hidden behind the cup when Gunn leaned over and asked his girlfriend if she could really do that.

Angel's smile sobered when he settled the box on the counter, his eyes caressing Cordelia's face. Being the sole object of his focus was more than nice, despite the fact that he was only searching for any signs of distress or lack of sleep. She grinned, setting her donut aside to go greet her worried lover. Her soft kiss lingered a second or so longer, her hands playing with the spiky gelled hairs. When she pulled away, his hands reached for her face and pulled her for another, more heated kiss.

"You do know you have an audience, right?"

Gunn's question remained ignored to his horror. Thankfully, the boss left his dark office, holding the sleeping Connor with an awkward look. The couple broke apart at the clearing of his throat.

"Don't be such a mood killer, Wes. We're not going to rip each other's clothes off and have sex on the counter. It was _just _a kiss... Or two."

Wes did his sigh thing, handing over the baby to Cordy's eager hands. "Still, we can't be too careful... How were your dreams?"

"Normal. I dreamed of little blue boxes from Tiffany's and a free shopping spree for Gucci shoes. No Angelus hijacking my dream world like some reject 'Nightmare on Elm Street' sequel."

Wesley nodded. "Good. I'll be researching deeper into the matter."

Cordy nodded, barely paying attention as she resumed walking around, enjoying the baby in her arms.

"What's in here?"

Angel grinned at his curious friend, opening the box. "Stuff that I ordered from the internet that's going to go perfect for the theme in Connor's room."

What really puzzled Charles was how he ordered these items? The old vamp didn't have any credentials to allow him to have a credit card, let alone to show that he was an American citizen. He looked at Fred, as if she would hold all the answers to his questions.

"I wanna know how he does it. No last name, no bank account," Gunn's nose crinkled as he then turned his questions back to the grinning subject matter. "How are you ordering stuff off the web?"

"It's not that hard, really. All you have to do is hack into the shipping database, find someone who is ordering what you want, then substitute your information."

Fred noticed the looks from Angel, Gunn and Cordelia.

"Except that would just be high-tech robbery."

"It's always the quiet ones," Cordy said thoughtfully.

Fred blushed as Cordy winked playfully at her.

"Actually, he just memorized my credit card numbers."

"Oh. Low-tech robbery."

Gunn watched as the eager vampire pulled out two tiny hockey sticks. Taking them from his friend, his brow wrinkled with concentration as he held them out for further study.

"Some kind of boomerang vamp stake?"

Angel frowned. "No! They're itty-bitty hockey sticks!"

Angel pulled one from his unimpressed friend's hands to demonstrate, then set it aside as he pulled out the Grey and green hockey jersey he showed Cordy just two days ago. "Check this out! How _cute _is this? Huh? Seriously."

Fred leaned against her boyfriend's legs, and smiled.

"Seriously, I think you got way too much time on your hands."

"Well, you're half right. But now, he's got me to fill in the time slots between brooding and boredom," Cordy said cheekily, setting the baby in his bassinet. "Admit it; you would do the same if there was a Charles Jr."

Gunn snorted. Fred pinched his thigh. "Now Charles, she's right. You think it's adorable."

He chuckled. "Well, yeah, but at least I'm manly enough to deny it. Ask my man, Wes."

Gunn smiled at the quiet Englishman, expecting some back up. But like the past few days, his nose was stuck in a book, completely deaf to the rest of the world.

"Wes?" Gunn complained. Wesley jerked forward from his place on the couch.

"Pardon?"

"Man, forget it."

Cordy rolled her eyes as she joined the boss on the couch. She peeked at his notes, which he quickly covered with more unreadable notes from her curious gaze.

The babble of the others seemed to blur in the background as she leaned over and whispered, "Don't be so secretive. Makes you look suspicious."

She tilted her head and smiled as she seated herself closer beside him. He tried to return the favor, but failed miserably at it.

"I'm sorry, Wes."

"For what?"

"For adding to your already huge pile of research."

He shook his head at her apology. "Angelus shouldn't ever be taken lightly, Cordy. Even in dream form, it's serious business."

"That's what Angel said," she replied, looking at her handsome lover as he chatted with the others with ease. "It's not like I'm trying to pretend it didn't happen. Though I still would like to act it was just a dream. So much easier to handle, you know?"

His haunted eyes glazed over as he slowly nodded to that. "Yes, I know all too well."

"I don't think I could ever live with myself if Angel ever reverted back to his evil self. To lose all of you because I was too selfish to face the reality of the complications of being in a less, platonic relationship with him. I promised myself that I wouldn't be another tragic, smitten, girl who pretends that Angelus isn't part of the package that's Angel. In a sense, I'm not. I love everything that's Angel."

She smiled as Angel's face looked as dreamy as he spoke of watching Connor grow up. It was so hard to remember that this father could become their worst nightmare.

"Yet, I forget that it could take one slip up, and I'm not just talking about the amazing, steamy, animal sex."

"It's all of us," Wesley murmured, intentionally blocking out the unwanted description of their sex life. He was watching the vampire as well. "We forget, or rather, we don't truly know how lonely he really was before he joined the good fight. How accustomed he became to a life without a purpose. Even with Buffy, he still was in the background. Helping her with what fate has called her to do. But it was her mission, her fight. He found what she had, here, in a city filled with others like him. The mission, friends, a son... Everything that has brought him here and now, it's given him the one thing he lacked all his long, miserable existence."

"Family," Cordy replied. Wes shook his head, tarring his gaze away from the chattering vampire.

"Purpose."

The sound of shattering glass interrupted the moment. Angel and Gunn were looking sheepish at the broken glass around the left glass back door. Cordy scowled at the two juvenile delinquents. Noticing the Cordy glare, Gunn pointed at Angel with the miniature hockey stick. The vampire glared at his friend while trying to hide the hockey stick he had behind his back.

"Great. Another thing to add to our list of bills," Cordy grumbled, trying her best not to dwell on how cute he looked when acting like an eight year old.

"Gunn will fix it."

"What? I ain't the one who broke the door, fangs."

"You started it!"

Cordy looked at Wes with an amused grin. But the boss was too engrossed with his book (not to mention having some things on his mind that weighed like a ton of bricks) to notice it.

"Alright, boys. Let's just agree that there won't be any more playing sports or demon fighting in the hotel. Lord knows that we're still paying for the damages of the grenade damage in Act 4 of 'Angel's Blast from the Past' episode."

Angel pouted at his lover's annoyed tone. "If I hadn't used the grenade, you three would have come home to find a pile of dust instead of scorch marks and the ruined elevator."

"Dust is easier to clean up, man," Gunn teased, setting the hockey stick back in the box.

Angel snorted, walking over and grabbing him some blood to heat up in the microwave. His nostrils twitched as the coppery aroma that only a vampire could appreciatively smell. It's copper, salty scent tickled his instincts to hunt. As the thick substance slowly heated to the temperature he liked, his tongue unconsciously caressed blunt teeth that itched to morph into deadly fangs and incisors. The juices in his mouth threatened to spill over as he took the large mug out. Eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled the aroma. This batch of pig's blood smelled so... tasty.

"Hey, big guy. Somebody's awake and wanting to see how his daddy is."

Angel grinned as he turned, taking Connor in one hand while drinking from his hot mug with the other. He leaned down and smelled his son, the smile showing a hint of the predator. Licking his lips, he quickly downed the rest of his blood with eagerness.

Cordy's back was turned to the disturbing display, busy grabbing a bottle of formula to go warm in the kitchen. Wesley though on the other hand, hadn't missed the subtle difference in Angel's attitude. But, due to guilt and confusion, he tried to push it off as his imagination. Holtz and Loa were the ones who caused the weed of doubt to grow. Or at least, that's what he told himself all night long.

After a little time had passed, Cordy reemerged to hand over the warm bottle. Angel refused as he looked at the mini fridge with longing.

"Here, I need to grab me some lunch."

Wesley watched the exchange, looking more worried than puzzled.

"Angel, you just had something."

Angel paused, looking slightly confused. "I did?... Well, I'm still hungry."

Cordy rolled her eyes as she took Connor back as Angel went and grabbed him some more blood. She looked down at the blue eyed baby, looking amused.

"Yeah, now we know who you got the ferocious appetite from."

Wesley shivered from those innocent yet too chilling words.

**A/N: Very short, but to the point. Besides, there can't be lots of fluff when secrets are hidden and fake prophecies hang above their heads.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Ever Changing Course

**A/N: **A short chapter, but still entertaining.

* * *

><p><strong>Traitor or Friend?<strong>

**Chapter 2: The Ever Changing Course of Fate and Prophecies**

Plans don't always turn out the way you want. They're always changing, for better or for worse. For Holtz, he found this out the hard way on the night his family was slaughtered. Angelus and Darla taught him that sometimes, even though you know your enemy and their habits, they will find a way to change and surprise you. Never allow yourself to believe that victory was close at hand. When you do, people get hurt... And die.

Justine still needed to learn that. Though she had the potential to be one of the best vampire hunters he's ever come across, she still was young and foolish. But not so much when it came to keeping secrets. She has yet told anyone of the other plan of his, one that none of the others expect. Of course, why would she? She told him herself that she would follow him to hell and back.

Holtz watched as the red head taught the new fighters some techniques. Sometimes, he felt pity for her, knowing that she was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss with him. Bitterness truly knew no bounds as its tentacles clung to those around you. Maybe, if his new plan was carried out as he hoped it would, the both of them could find some peace. Despite of her rugged exterior, she had an inner strength that only a woman who's seen and experience difficulties could have. She would make a good mother.

Clutching the picture of Connor, Holtz sighed. The child was part of the key to his future. To get to Angelus and deliver justice in such a way that it would allow this demon to at least feel what he felt when losing his wife, daughter, and only son. The other interesting detail was this Cordelia character. Like he thought earlier, plans change. And she was becoming a part of that plan.

Despite of his personal lessons in life, the hope that this would soon be over thawed his icy heart somewhat. To finally be able to have justice served was something he was denied several times, in which it became the only thing he so desperately wanted in this cruel life. Only then, would he find some measure of peace.

"Soon," Holtz murmured, looking at the picture of Cordy and the baby. "May God have more mercy on your soul then he will with mine."

**A**

Wesley ignored the invitation to play a round of darts as he continued to brood. He didn't lie to his friends and colleagues about where he was going... Not exactly. If memory served him correctly, he might have mentioned that he needed to go for a walk, and that he might stop somewhere for a drink. Though it wasn't for fun. No. He came here to get drunk. Really smashed. So wasted, that maybe he'll have a spiritual vision quest that would give him the directions on whom to believe and what he should do... Or just black out for awhile. He hasn't slept for nearly over thirty hours now.

The bartender gave him a compassionate look as he ordered for a bottle of whiskey, deciding that his two beers wasn't enough.

"You must have had a bad day, Wesley."

Wes chuckled darkly before grabbing the bottle from the bartender's hesitant hands.

"It's been more like bad _days_. Plural."

The young man sighed as he cleaned one of the shot glasses. "Well, if you need a good listener, that's why I'm here. Other than being the enabler to you getting smashed plan."

"Thanks, but no manner of talking will make my problem go away."

"Okay. But at least give me your keys. I can't let you drive home drunk. Or I could call your-"

"No!" Wesley snarled. He squeezed his eyes shut and laid his head on the counter as he pulled out his keys. "Sorry, Henry. Thanks for your concern. It's just... I really don't feel like talking."

The young man shook his head. Mr. Wyndham-Pryce as far as he knew never got drunk when he was feeling blue. The Englishman had become less of a stick in the mud and more fun as of late, playing darts or hanging out with his buddy, Gunn. It must be something really bad for him to be here unknowingly to his close friends. But, what did he know? He was just a guy bartending for a living. Not a Psychiatrist.

Grateful that Henry took his keys but left the bottle, Wesley resumed with his plan. He tilted his head back and drank each burning shot of whiskey like a pro. His finger tips began to feel tingly, the buzz from the strong beverage starting to deliver its desired effects. Except for his brain. Alcohol was supposed to fog your mind and slow the thinking process, not enhance it!

"Bloody whiskey! Not like the ale from home."

Blaming where the brand of whiskey was from didn't do anything of use to make him feel better. Despite what people may think of him, he's always been able to hold his liquor well. Even the night when Cordy, Gunn, and he had gotten drunk over their unemployment status, he was able to fight that demon in Cordy's vision... Well, not very well, but he and the other two survived the night while being quite intoxicated. That at least counted for something.

He lifted the shot glass up, studying the dark brown liquid. Funny how once he lectured an old school chum of his (who had a tendency to be depressed all the time) on the sheer foolishness of drowning your sorrows in a beverage that has physiological damaging effects. It's basically a depressant. Combine that with a person severely depressed, well, the consequences were not pretty. Yet there he was, trying to absorb as much alcohol as possible. Hypocrite could be added to the name category that he started for himself.

_"How grand is this? My only son, drinking away the last of his brain cells rather than facing the problem."_

Wesley snorted, draining his shot glass in rebellion.

"You know, you shouldn't talk. I know where you keep your special scotch hidden away from mother's eyes."

_"That my boy is for leisure; not to forget all about pressing matters."_

Wesley chuckled. "You always ran from personal problems. Dropping me off at the Watcher academy at the tender age of five. Letting the professors to teach me what it was to be a man. Though even they couldn't prepare me for life outside of the Mother land."

Some patrons in the pub looked at the mumbling Englishman, apparently talking to himself. In that city, all learned to stay away from those who speak to themselves.

_"Don't be so dramatic, Wesley. You always had a tendency to blow things out of proportion. And, if my memory is correct, it was __you __who went against the Watcher's council and sided with the vampire and that psychotic slayer, which I may add was your fault in the first place - considering her mental health."_

"Shut up," Wesley whispered.

_"And now, instead of leaning on what you have learned, you still side with the vampire. The prophecy is true; you have already seen the signs of the monsters return. And yet you do nothing but drink. And you call yourself a leader!"_

"I said-"

_"Loa, the Truth Keeper, told you that the vampire will devour his child! Angelus is just around the corner. Yes, he has a soul, but that doesn't change what he is. Or rather, who. Angel is Angelus. Just with a soul. Sooner or later, he will be released from his conscious. By some prophecy or because of the seer who opens her thighs-"_

"I SAID SHUT-UP!"

Now everyone was staring at him. But he didn't care. His father's voice has taunted him for too long. Though now, it was only a figment of his imagination. Maybe getting drunk wasn't such a good idea.

_"Holtz will come. He will not care if there is a child or humans in the way. As long as the child is in Angel's possession, lives will be in danger."_

Growing fed up with his conscious form of his father, he paid for the whiskey, with tip, and left.

"Yes, Angel is technically Angelus with a soul," Wesley said aloud as he attempted to hail a cab. "But he is also completely different and separate then the demon within... Makes no sense, and yet Angel has never made any sense."

_"Connor and everyone you hold dear will die."_

"Maybe... And Maybe not," Wesley replied, a cab now pulling up. "But I at least have a choice to warn him. Cordelia's right. Secrets in our line of work are never good."

"Whatever you say, man," said a hobo sitting on a bench nearby. He shook his head, nudging the empty air beside him as the young man left in his yellow taxi. "And people call me crazy."

**A**

Angel knew that his unusual happy humming was freaking out Cordy, but sometimes, you just have to hum. At least he wasn't singing that had to count for something. Besides, Connor liked the way his daddy hummed and sings, unlike some people he knew.

No, he was going to hum as much as he wanted too. For life was perfect! Well, great. Perfect would be when his soul is finally anchored and all evil decides to give up. And when his friends would stop poking him whenever he grinned. That was getting old. Kind of a damper when everyone poked or pinched him when he was attempting to be less broody and more... optimistic. Just because he was humming didn't mean he was blissful!

"Ow! Cor, stop that!"

"Then stop humming! You and humming don't fit in the same sentence, let alone you actually doing it."

"For the last time, I'm just in a good mood. Besides, you told me once to make a sound when sneaking up on you."

"Yeah, when I wasn't aware of your manly presence. But all the smiling and humming while folding clothes is just... wrong."

He felt the childish urge to stick his tongue out at his seer and lover. But he wasn't that care free. "Wasn't it you who said I should smile more?"

"Don't stray from the point, Broody."

"Great, you ruined my gay mood."

Cordelia arched an eyebrow as she helped him fold some of Connor's clothes on Angel's bed. "What did you say?"

"Here I was, actually taking your advice and not brooding over my past, and then you and the others poke and pinch me. Even Fred grabbed a stake and joined in."

"Did you say you were in a gay mood?"

Angel shrugged. He didn't know what was so shocking about him being a little happy. "Yeah, so? So I'm a little happy; it's not like I'm going to go all homicidal and torture, maim, and kill our family."

"Oh." She grinned sheepishly. "That gay. I was just starting to wander if you preferred to use the potion on Wesley or Gunn."

Angel continued to fold, that is, until the realization dawned on him. His eyes widened and his head snapped up. He looked at his girlfriend with surprise.

"What? No! Not that... I mean, gay in my time meant happy. I love women! I mean, sure, there was that time when Spike and I kissed, but that was because we got covered in a Labriel demon's blood, which causes small spurts of uncontrollable sexual urges. But that was as far as we went-"

"Whoa! Too much information!" Cordy laughed, placing her hand over his mouth. "I was just teasing, Angel... Oh my God, you and Spike actually kissed! No wander you two act like you hate each other. Hey!"

Cordy tore her hand away when he licked it.

"It was that demon's fault. And what part of only kissing did you not unders-"

Cordy's laughter stopped his sulking immediately as the beauty of that laugh and smile played the strings of his heart like a professional violinist. He reached up and cupped her cheek, which slowly halted her laughter. Her eyes turned to a sinful toffee color as she leaned into his touch.

"I love it when you laugh."

"And I love it when you smile."

"And I'm going to be sick if you two start up all that mushy stuff," retorted a loud, obnoxious voice.

"Charles! You get just as mushy when we complement each other."

Angel watched as the couple entered his suite and settled Connor back in Cordy's eager arms.

"Babe, you know that I can't let these people know that I have a soft side," Gunn half admonished and joked. Fred rolled her eyes.

"Well, we're going out," Fred announced. "So, we probably won't be available for any babysitting."

"Yeah, so if y'all get with the big nasty, please get it over with before my girl gets home. These walls ain't thick enough to keep that kind of noise out."

"Charles!" Fred said with a blush of embarrassment.

Cordy grinned despite of her own blush. "I guess we can call it a day. Wesley hasn't called, so leave the doors unlocked. He'll probably stop by later. He always does."

"We probably won't be back by then," Gunn replied while wiggling his eyebrows up and down, leering at Fred. The Texan slapped his arm while giggling as they left to go on their date.

"And they say we're bad," Cordy snorted, turning her attention on the sweet, baby. "Hello, baby-face."

Connor gave a small, fussy, cry; kicking his legs while tiny hands reached out and latched around one breast. His little mouth open and closed, looking for food.

"Awww. Sorry, little man. No food for ya there."

"It's about time for his next feeding. Speaking of which, I could go for something myself," Angel replied, getting up to get the formula ready, along with another glass of blood.

A knock at the door didn't detour him from his mission as he lit the gas stove.

"Come on in."

The smell of liquor was very much in the air for certain vampy senses to detect before Wes even opened the door. "Guess I should put on a pot of coffee as well. Sit down, relax. Then tell me why your walk ended with a visit to a bar."

"Wesley's drunk?" Cordy asked, surprised.

"No, just a bit tipsy," Wesley replied, his words clear and a bit disappointed. "I'm sorry. I know that this is not the way a leader should behave-"

"Don't sweat it. Angel has out done ya there with his beige period."

Angel growled low, ignoring her grin.

"How are you doing? Really?"

"I've had better days," Wesley replied, sitting down on Angel's bed as Cordy went to set the baby back in his cradle.

"I know the feeling," Angel replied, setting the bottle in the pot. Feeling a bit impatient for the blood to heat up in the microwave, he took it out earlier than usual and licked his lips.

"And that's why I'm here," Cordy said as she turned and looked at her friend. "Now that I have done the impossible and chased away Mr. Broody and let Mr. Humming-Dark-Avenger in, I can focus on you."

Her teasing smile turned into a frown as Wesley crossed his arms to hide trembling hands.

"Actually, that would be nice. I... I have had a lot on my mind... Things have been... difficult. Holtz, Aubrey-"

"Yeah, I figured it out."

Angel's sensitive hearing heard the way Wes's heart beat increased. He drank some of his blood eagerly due to that simple thing. He walked over and sat down in the chair beside his bed. Setting the drink down on a nearby beside table, he resumed folding laundry. Wesley just stared at the vampire as Cordelia watched conflicting emotions display themselves across his face.

"Oh?"

"How something about Aubrey didn't seem right with me. All that pain, rage, hatred. Just below the surface... the only way she could deal with all of that was to join Holtz. To have her revenge... You know how I knew that?"

"Because you would do the same thing." Wesley replied.

Angel sighed, almost smiling as he looked up at his friend. "It scares me. You know? If anything like that ever happened to Connor, I'd... I love my son."

Angel peeked at Cordelia as she leaned against one of the open french glass doors. There was no judging or fear, only acceptance and something akin to what he felt on the matter. A mother's love and protectiveness over the safety of her child.

"Love's a terrible thing."

Cordy snorted at Wes's reply.

"Please! Love may bring hurt when that certain person is the cause, but it's not terrible. Things done in the name of love is bad, but the right kind of love itself isn't wrong or selfish. Getting hurt is a risk you take. Cut out the obsessive and forbidden Romeo and Juliet part, and you just might make it through."

Both men looked at her with astonishment. Cordy shrugged. "Hey, you two may have had tragic love encounters, but from what I've learned from it; when it's given and in turn given back without all the bull crap that's usually tagging along with it, it can be a beautiful thing."

Angel felt himself going soft and hard at the same time. "You really feel that way about me?"

"Well, duh!" She replied with her trade mark mega watt grin. "Don't you feel that way about me?"

Angel nodded truthfully. "Yeah. No burning my bones to ash and ripping me apart... Well, only a little with you and Groo all over each other."

"I thought we got passed all of that?" Cordy grumbled. "You know that I feel bad for letting it get that far with my denial sickness."

"Just nice to hear it," Angel replied, satisfied with her answer. He turned his attention back to Wesley. "The point is that with Connor, it's a different kind of love. With him, it's... No matter what I do or what he does, that love is going to be there. No putting my heart on the line. It's instinctual, almost. I can't really explain it. It's something you have to experience to really know, you know?"

Wes smiled, looking down. His chest rumbled as he began to chuckle, and then laugh. His laughter surprised both Cordelia and Angel, but in a pleasant way. There was no bitterness there, only relief and a genuine happiness. It was contagious, causing the other two to join in.

"What's so funny?" Angel laughs as he gets up to go check on the bottle and coffee.

"Life. Life is funny. Listening to stupid people talking to hamburgers and hearing their father's voice in their head is funny. Worrying about things that will never... It's all incredibly funny and - and beautiful."

Cordy arched her perfect eyebrow. "When you mention talking to hamburgers and hearing voices; that isn't you, is it?'Cause that is definitely the first signs of being drunk, not tipsy. Or insane."

Wesley grinned as Angel wiped the hot water off of the bottle. "No, for the first time this week, my mind is actually free-"

As if sensing the direction Wesley was leaning toward, fate stepped in and demolished the moment of peace and serenity. The ground rumbling and the building quaking was the first of the signs foretold to begin.

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><p><strong>AN: **I just had to do it and leave you there. I'm just mean that way. Seriously, I am. I'm sitting here laughing at your outrage… Not really. But I do like writing cliff hangers.


	3. Chapter 3: Early Signs of Badness

**A/N: I know, it's a really short chapter. I decided to end it on a spot that was all creepy bad things with Angel sort of way. **

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><p><strong>Traitor or Friend?<strong>

**Chapter 3: Early Signs of Badness to Come**

Cordy immediately ran to the crib, picking up the frightened child as the building shook violently, rattling and dropping pots and pans out of the cupboards. Dishes crash as the first sign of the Hamburgers warning came true.

In another part of Los Angeles, Lilah smiled as her office shook; knocking down papers, files, and decorations. She didn't panic, unlike the screams she heard outside her spacious office. As her evil comrade in the plot against Angel predicted, the earthquake had struck exactly to the very hour, minute and second. Made her eager to find out the next stage in the demon's plan, and how she can benefit from it with the Partners.

For Holtz's crew, panic wasn't an option. Most had lived in L.A. all their lives, experiencing minor and not so minor quakes in the past. Several got underneath tables or huddled in the corners, laying down on the ground while covering their heads. In such an old, abandoned mansion, things weren't as steady they should be.

Justine ignored the common safety rules as her eyes connected with Holtz's.

Suddenly, a large bookshelf came crashing down. Holtz managed to run and tackle the shocked woman as it fell. Justine blinked once or twice, eyes vulnerable and showing the innocence that Holtz lost long ago. No words were spoken as her eyes revealed a small amount of her feelings for him. Feelings he could never return, nor wanted to.

The lit stove in Angel's suite toppled over as the earthquake continued on. A huge column of flames shot out with the mini explosion, throwing Angel across the room. A burning beam dropped from the ceiling between Wes and the dazed vampire.

_'The first portent will shake the earth.'_

Wesley staggered back, leaning against the wall by the bed, due to Loa's haunting words. His somewhat buzzed brain faintly heard Cordy's pleas for help, unable to cross due to the growing fire from the oven.

"Angel!"

Like a man lost in a dream, Wesley watched wordlessly as Angel leaped across the flames.

_'The second will burn the air.'_

Wesley clutched his ears, trying to drown the prophetic words out at any means necessary. To deny proof of the fire from the stove as it seemed to consume the very air around them.

Cordelia held the baby in his sky printed blanket tight to her chest as Angel picked her up and leaped like some young Gazelle over the flickering flames. He set her down and pushed her toward the door. He stopped long enough to grab a hold of his dazed friend and literally threw him out of the apartment. He gave a glance behind him as chunks of the ceiling fell where Wesley had just been standing a second ago, then joined his family out in the hall.

The earthquake settled down, with minor shocks following. Both adult humans coughed as Connor screamed and kicked furiously in his blanket. Angel immediately gathered Cordelia and Connor in his arms, speaking soothing words to both.

Connor's screams slowly turned to whimpers as both adults hovered over him. Wesley watched with a far away expression as Cordy gave Connor over to the eager father. The pattern on the blanket caught his eye, as well as the blood trailing down Angel's head and cheek. Each drop of the ruby red substance that dripped on the blue, fluffy cloud blanket sent daggers of fear that pierced through Wes's defense against the prophecy.

_'The last will turn the sky to blood.'_

"Earthquake. Fire. Blood," Wes whispered, horrified with the reality of what was coming to pass before his very eyes.

"We-We could have gotten stuck back there. Or worse, we could have... we could have died," Cordy gasped as she stroked Connor's cheek.

"But we didn't. We're all alive and have our limbs attached," Angel replied soothingly, keeping his eyes connected with his son's frightened ones.

"Oh my God, Angel. Your head."

Angel's eyes met hers, and then he smiled as she hesitantly touches the trail of blood. Looking at her fingers, his grin took on a hungry, humor like quality.

"At least I would have had something to snack on."

Wesley's trembling hand covered his mouth, mind zeroing in on the word snack.

_''Do you wanna see Connor do somethin' cool?'' Angel's face morphs into the predator that's stalked Europe for over a hundred years. ''I'm teaching him how to die.'' _

**A**

Holtz rolled off Justine and helped her to her feet. Many of his crew still kept under the tables while others slowly stood up and asked about the health of their fellow brothers in arms.

"I think it's over," Justine muttered, still dazed and jittery over the close proximity with her mentor, along with the quake.

"What about aftershocks?" Someone asked fearfully.

But as seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into an hour, this proved to be no issue. Thankfully, as everyone reported back in through either phone or face to face, there seemed to be no casualties in their group. Minor scratches and bruises, but nothing life threatening or in need of medical attention.

As the bitter group began to clean up what they could, Justine followed Holtz out to the balcony.

Sensing her presence, Holtz merely nodded in her direction, keeping his focus on the busy streets below. Though Justine doubted he was really looking at the citizens of L.A... His mind and penetrating gaze on something else. She was right.

"I have a feeling Mr. Wyndham-Pryce will be visiting us soon. He'll be ready then to listen to reason, no doubt. I'm sure the earthquake has shattered all his precious arguments."

"And just like you said, we'll be there to give him the final push."

Holtz closed his eyes, a life time of pain finally coming to a head. He had to fight the urge to relax, keeping his hopes of victory at bay for the mean time. He couldn't afford any mistakes now.

"Yes... Did Samuel find what I have asked?"

Justine looked away, hiding her hesitancy. Her weakness to question when concerning a human life.

"I just received a call. He said that he's now following her and Angelus. They have the child with them in fact, if you-"

"No. It's too soon. We don't move on the child until we deal with Wyndham-Pryce first."

"Well... He said he'll call when he-"

The vibration in her pocket halted her flow of words.

"Well?" Justine asked. Holtz turned his head, watching the cruel, sly smile grace her pretty features. That smile reminded him of Darla somehow. Cunning, gloating... He averted his eyes back down, watching the scenes down below.

"Good job. You sure the vampire didn't see you?... Great. Report back to base."

"Judging from the gleam in your eye and the conversation, we now know where Angelus's woman lives."

"An apartment complex called 'Pearson Arms', near Silver Lake. Though we may have some problems."

"Of course we would. And they are?"

"Well, she lives on the second level, with quite a few neighbors. Though that wouldn't be too much of a problem, I guess. No roommate, at least. It appears that Angelus and the kid may be staying with them tonight. We're unsure if he'll be there for awhile or just for one of their... well, you know."

"I see no reason to change our plans for the present time being. The hotel is their place of work and Angelus's home. They'll be back."

"Well, I was thinking that if the opportunity arose, and the child and the woman are at the apartment alone in the future, maybe we could kill two birds with one stone."

Holtz didn't immediately reply, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he reluctantly nodded. "It is something to be considered... If this Wesley doesn't prove me right and go according to our plans, and circumstances give us the opportunity, we will take this as our queues to do what you Americans call 'Winging it'."

Justine leaned her back against the railing, folding her arms across her chest. "Seems like everything's going to be easy."

"Nothing is ever easy as it appears, Justine. Not in the lives such as ours. It's important to remember that fate has a tendency to change direction, much like the wind. You never know which way it may blow next, where it starts or even ends... You just have to adapt with each change, or die trying."

**A**

How could fate be so cruel? Why did the world seem to be against those who fought to keep it safe? Even the divine seemed to be deaf to the plight of those who serve them. Frankly, Wesley couldn't grasp why the good in this realm and all others could allow this to happen. Maybe it was just some big, cosmic joke on the lowly mortals and immortals that fought for love, hate, good, evil, and freedom. Something to laugh about while watching every living being lose something in the end, observing their reactions to the sudden twist of fate. If it was, Wesley was not amused.

Opening the door to his lonely apartment, the young man ignored the mess of books and lamps and old antiques as he contemplated the unfairness destiny have dropped in his lap. Very much like Atlas, both god and titan who was ordered to hold up the heavens on his shoulders for all eternity; Wesley is left to bear the knowledge of what was to come. At this moment, he could relate to that Greek mythical god, forced to bear the most burdensome decision by the Powers who seemed all too silent now.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, the tired, beaten young man tracked back to his bedroom, eyes haunted as replays of the three signs being fulfilled refused to let up. Questions and answers demanding for attention. Knowing it all brought conflict and despair instead of peace. He so desperately wanted to reach out and warn them all to the danger Connor is in, and yet he proved to not being strong enough to do so. For once, now knowing who, where, when, and how did not bring a satisfaction to this intellectual. Having the answer seemed to bind him up even more.

Kicking off his shoes, Wesley laid back on his bed, too tired to undress and go through his nightly rituals. Something he was very particular in doing. A word came to his mind. Disconnected. Disconnected from life, friends... everything.

He turned over, looking where a picture of the whole fang gang usually was. He numbly peeked over the edge of his bed, his eyes able to pick out the broken glass of the picture frame in the darkness. Shakily, he reached down and picked it up. The moonlight of the full moon shone brightly through the window. It was the picture taken before Cordelia's birthday. Wesley, Fred, Cordelia, and Gunn were scrunched up together on the orange couch in the hotel, while Angel sat on the couch arm, next to the brunette seer. In his arms was the newly born infant, asleep and comfortable and perfectly at ease.

The broken glass covered Connor; its spidery arms reaching Angel's face and all the way across to Wesley's neck. In a way, almost prophetic of events to come.

_'You have answers, human. You search now, only for the question.'_

_'Is it true? Will Angel really kill his son as it says in the prophecies?'_

_'That the vampire will devour his child is certain. The dark question __you __harbor is only __when__."_

"No," Wesley whispered, shaking his head.

_'No. The dark question I harbor is 'how do I stop it?"_

_'It cannot __be __stopped.'_

_'It has to be stopped!' There must be a way...'_

"But it can't be stopped," Wesley said aloud. "Can it?"

_'You risk your life, human, calling on Loa. Perhaps what you really seek is death. The pain in your heart begs for it.'_

_'Then do it and be done. Nothing else will stop me.'_

Wesley realized that even then he knew what he must do. Or more like it, believed. Believing a certain option was the only right thing to do. Because the truth was, he knew what the true good path would cost him and Angel. It needed to be done. Even if betrayal would be the only thing his family could describe what the right thing to do was.

_'Simple mortal, your pain is just beginning. Betrayal and agony lie in wait, and time - is running out, yet still you ignore the question.'_

The picture slid out of his hands, bounced off the mattress and further cracked when harshly connecting with the wood floor. Now, the crack in the glass cut Wesley off from the others in the picture completely.

"No more."

This was it. The line where he must cross. To be a traitor, or friend. And to be strong and brave enough to choose. He has his answers, and even now knows the question. Tomorrow, he will carry out what must be done. That is, if his resolve would hold out until morning.

**A**

Hunger fought with sleep. The thirst for the rich, tasty, human blood nearly had him growling aloud. But that wouldn't be a wise thing to do, not with the two slightly demon tinged humans sleeping beside him. Two mouth watering meals... Angel opened his eyes, realizing he was smelling his son's neck in his game face. And not in the 'Mmm-cute-baby-father-sniffing' way either.

He quietly left the bed, trying to keep his mouth from watering so much from the lingering smell his son left on his body. All he needed was something to drink, and then he'll be all cured from thinking of the two special people in his life as lunch.

Not bothering with warming up the blood, Angel quickly drank the 16 oz plastic container of blood. Strangely enough, it didn't satisfy him. He quickly helped himself to another, and another, and another till the last of the batch was gone. Thankfully, some of the edge was smoothed out, tampering down his need to rip into some warm throats.

It didn't occur to Angel how strange and wrong his gorging of a three day supply of blood was. And to be truthful, he couldn't if he tried. Not when his natural instincts were slowly breaching the surface, untying his self control one strand at a time.

Sex, blood, violence. Urges that now were pushing out reason as they did in his soulless days. Sadly, Cordelia didn't feel like satisfying one of those urges tonight. Quickly reminding him earlier that they were taking a break until Wes fully investigates this sudden thing with Angelus tapping into their bond. Plus, the baby was sleeping with them. Discussion closed... The urge to use violence on her was only tampered by the soul that was still very well intact.

And now, his baser urges were on the fore front of his mind. Blood was now lower on the list, but violence and sex wasn't. And when entering back in Cordy's room, they were the only thing on his mind. He grabbed the potion, one of the few things not broken in his trashed apartment, and held it tightly as he sat in the chair near the bed. Watching both Cordy and baby with a predator's hunger.

Memories of eating infants in front of their mothers caressed his foggy mind. Instead of appalling him, it made him grow even more excited. Raping the mothers afterwards caused fangs to itch.

He unconsciously opens the bottle as he looked at his lover. She had managed to kick off her blankets, revealing her short night shorts that tortured his overheating mind. Angel licked his lips as his hungry eyes burned a trail up her body. The body that was curled around the baby, one hand on top of his tummy in an unconscious protective manner.

Didn't she know what she was doing to him? That everything about her called out to the demon as well as the man?

All he had to do was take one... little... sip... He was a vampire, after all. Cordy may not realize it, but vampires have needs. Needs that surpass their human selves when they had a pulse. And Angelus was one whose needs were never quite satisfied.

_Get a grip. You're acting like a teenager... A vampire teenager stuck in puberty. _

Putting the bottle back on the night stand, Angel decided to do something constructive, keeping his mind off certain demanding urges. Such as sketching. Sketching was good. Sketching required focus on one thing. Except he didn't have his supplies here. Damn!

Sighing, he decided to lie back down and try to sleep. If he didn't inhale, then he wouldn't be reminded of how much his family was a temptation that was almost too hard to resist.

As the vampire finally found the sleep that eluded him, a certain ghost watched with dread. The only witness to negative tones that only someone supernatural could sense. And so, Phantom Dennis kept watch all night over the two vulnerable people in the bed, keeping a stake ready if needed.

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><p><strong>AN: **You know what to do. Review. (Smiling while pointing at a chained up Angelus) Or maybe someone will unlock his chains and points him in your direction. Muah! Ha aha ha aha haaaaaa! Okay, empty threat. But still, a mean and scary thought, if you think about it.


	4. Chapter 4:Seriously Disturbed

**A/N: **Like what was beginning to show in the chapters before, Angel's acting creepy. Be forewarned, more freaky Angel to come. Creepier than the Angel high on Connor's blood in season 3, in fact. At least to me. Though in my case, creepy Angel is still as hot as broody Angel. In fact, he's just plain hot all the time….. Stupid vampire.

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><p><strong>Traitor Or Friend?<strong>

**Chapter 4: Seriously Disturbed**

**The Next Day At The Hyperion Hotel...**

Wesley couldn't take his eyes off the notepad. The prophecy mocking him with its time limit and harsh reality. The very air around him was full of despair and a sense of desperation. Last night, he knew what he had to do. The darkness of the night was helpful in that decision. But under the full light of day, doubts crept back in.

Memories of Angel proving himself over and over warred with his sense of good and evil. The blur between black and white mixing and turning into a disgusting shade of grey. And yet, grey is an area he worked in. A startling truth when he chose to work with a vampire responsible for destruction and death on a cosmic scale.

"Excuse me, is Lorne here?"

He looked up at a pretty young blond, standing in his office. Her blue eyes looked somewhat frightened and wary, warring with the bright smile on her pretty face.

"Right here, Doll face!"

Lorne entered the office with his usual flamboyance, stealing the show. She grinned and kissed him on his cheek as he returned the favor.

"Hey, what's with the black and blue aura?"

The tall young woman clutched the guitar case closer, biting her lower lip. "Um, is it alright we go to somewhere private?"

"Sure. There's a beautiful garden out back. Perfect place for you to serenade me."

Wesley watched as the demon and the young lady left. Now he could get back to his contemplation of events past and yet to come.

Meanwhile, Angel and Cordelia were down in the basement, getting a little training in. The sexual tension that's existed between the two for a long time seemed to be thicker than ever. It was like their love making before never happened. Maybe it was because of getting a taste of each other, only to be never quite satisfied, or even because of this whole soul mating thing. What neither of them realized was that dark forces were at play, disturbing Angel's balance of demon and man. Because of the link he shares with his seer, his darker side was revealing itself more than in her dreams.

Both moved in sink, Angel on the defensive as Cordy went on the attack. Her movements had become more confidant and agile, even more so then her cheerleader days. To say Angel was pleased would be understating the obvious. It made him want to howl with pride as she attacked without mercy, her movements graceful as dancers.

Deciding to ramp up their sparring session, Angel reversed his standing and went on the attack. Every blow (keep in mind he had enough sense to not put his full force or speed into his movements) was easily out maneuvered and rewarded with an attack of her own. The session soon pick up in the tempo, both revealing their dominant natures, unwilling to give ground. Teacher and student soon turned to competitors, trying to win.

When Cordy bent and began to deliver a leg sweep, Angel froze and grew distracted by her heaving cleavage. He wound up flat on his back with a very happy brunette on top. Her bottom hopped up and down on his pelvis as she squealed with victory.

"Ha! I win! Nah! Nah! Nah-Naaah! Naaaah!"

She grinned down at him, her hair plastered around her face with the sweat of her labor. Her smile slowly lessoned when he didn't say a word.

"Hey Angel, I won... Aren't you going to congratulate me? Pat me on the head? Buy me those earrings I've been eyeing the past two weeks?"

His eyes grew even more pitch black as his pupils dilated. Cordelia shifted, and then went still. Her own eyes grew dilated and filled with want.

"Cordy... Want to claim your prize?"

She didn't get a chance to answer that tempting question. A hand shot up, fisting in her hair then pulled her down to his lips. Cordelia instantly opened her mouth, just as eager for his taste as he was for hers. The kiss was bruising and so animalistic, each trying to devour the other.

Her hands trailed down his muscle shirt, sneaking underneath to rub his slightly sweaty chest. She groaned, rubbing his pecks and navel. His stomach clenched and trembled as she rubbed and rocked against his body.

Angel was beyond reason. Mind only on her, and claiming what was his. His soul didn't seem to mind the idea of staking his claim on her permanently, not like it did before. The demon-man wanted... no needed this. Needed the games to stop and to have complete fulfillment.

Cursing her human need for oxygen, Cordy reluctantly left his firm, devouring lips. She gasped when seeing her sweat shirt cast off, leaving her only in her sports bra and tight spandex exercise shorts. His hands were already busy in their attempt to get rid of the rest of her clothing.

"Whoa! Angel, we need to stop. This is bad. With a capitol... Angel!"

She pulled his hand from underneath the sports bra. "I'm serious! Curse, remember?"

She suddenly found herself underneath him, pelvis thrusting as his hands squeezed and rubbed every inch of her body. Her eyes crossed as her hips eagerly responded.

"What's the matter, Cor? Am I too much for you to handle?"

Annoyed that she had to be the mature one _again, _she attempted to push him off. But she might as well have been trying to push Fred out of a 'Free Taco's' line at Taco bell. The manpire was not going to move.

"Too much to handle? Please. If it wasn't for me, you still would be playing Mr. Noble-Martyr for the sake of our non-relationship; while I-"

Hips stilled as hands fisted in her hair in a painful way, forcing her to look into gold rimmed eyes.

"What? What exactly would you be doing, Cordelia? Fu-king that steroid stud, adding him to your Boy Slayer prophile of yours? All the while knowing that I'm here tied up in knots, stroking myself while fantasizing what it would be like to finally get into those silk panties of yours."

Her mouth opened with shock at his jealous, crude words. He's never talked to her like that before. And Groo, what the heck did he have to do with them? She even asked him what his damage was. His answer was a brutal kiss, one she didn't find so enjoyable. (Though her body did betray itself with its frantic rubbing.)

Hands fisted in his shirt as she lifted her legs, then...

Angel found him being flipped over, totally caught off guard. Through the fog of lust, he thought with pride how he didn't remember teaching her _that _move.

Cordelia quickly scrambled up and attempted to make a run for the stairs. But she had vampire speed against her, along with his strength and - oh... his total hotness.

He pinned her to the wall, his body molded against hers like a second skin. Both her wrists were raised above her head, trapped in his left hand. Her angry growl and jerky body movement in attempt to escape only aroused the predator more. Sniffing the air, Angel growled with pleasure. Anger, arousal, and a hint of fear had filled the air between them like a sweet perfume. God, he was going to enjoy this!

"Come on, kitten. Don't play hard to get. Then again, do. It only makes what's to come more... enjoyable," Angel purred in her ear.

She froze, and then trembled. Not the entire nervous quake was due to fear. God, can she be any sicker? Getting off on being taken if she liked it or not had to be proof of her total lack of sanity! Her back arched when he sucked the tender spot behind her ear. Oh that mouth! The vampire was relentless!

Then, her drowning brain brought to remembrance that he used Angelus's endearment for her. Which brought back the dream and why this was a bad idea. Bad, bad, bad, bad!

"Damn it, Angel! This isn't funny!"

He sighed, leaning back with an annoyed look. "I wasn't going for funny, sweetheart."

Despite his calm manner, she sensed his strained leash on control was ready to snap. Deciding to bite back words stemming from anger, she smiled and used her own pleading look that never failed her yet.

"Angel, I want you."

He grinned, his head dipping down to finish what they started. But her next words halted his progress.

"But, we doing what we obviously do best together will only bring out you-know-who. Remember the potion and the rules?"

His body was tense, and his head nuzzled against her jugular. For a moment, she wandered if maybe her protests were a little too late. But he lifted his head, looking at her with soft, warm eyes that never failed to warm her soul.

"Cordy."

She smiled her body relaxing as he released her wrists.

"A quickie won't be any danger to my soul."

Okay, she didn't expect that. Both hands now lifted her legs; her reaction was to wrap those babies around his wrist as his hands slid down to cup her firm ass. She gasped when lips nipped at her own teasingly as his pelvis ground relentlessly against hers without a single ounce of mercy.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he swept her up in a flood of desire. Now, her arguments sounded silly to her. Curse? What curse? As long as he put out the fire he started, she'd be happy as a lark. As content as a cat and her saucer of milk. As blissful as... Ah crap!

She bit down on his lip, trying to stop him before she lost her last strand on self control. He only moaned while his hand slowly slipped into her pants. Oh boy. If she didn't stop him in five seconds, she was a goner... With the rest of the world.

With one last ditch effort, her hand reached up and cupped his face. Then her nails dug in. Angel's growl was loud and primal, lips leaving hers as his natural face came into play. One hand reached up, his yellow eyes glowing with barely suppressed rage when finding his cheek slightly wet with his blood.

"So kitten wants to play ruff, huh?" He growled as he licked his blood off his fingers.

"No, _kitten _wants to stop before she's forced to castrate her boyfriend!"

His hand left his lips and surrounded her throat. The pressure around her neck both surprised and frightened her.

"Don't be such a bitch!"

Cordy had to let that sink in, blinking with surprise. Did he?... Her? Him? Say?... Oh no he didn't! Her anger slightly lessoned while staring into the pair of incredibly cold, yellow eyes.

Eyebrows shot up at as she curtly asked, "What did you just call me?"

The coldness melted into confusion. His hand left her throat as he scratched his head. "Uh... Did I just-"

"Yes, you did."

Gently, he set her down and took a step back. Cordy let out the sigh of relief that she didn't know she had been holding in.

"God... Cordy, I'm sorry. I... I don't know what came over me."

She didn't say anything, still rattled at what she saw and heard. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear that she had been macking heavily with Angelus. But upon seeing his genuine confusion and guilt, she decided to ignore the warning bells and believe that it was just stress. Angel would never hurt her. Well, not intentionally.

"It's okay. You just... took me off guard with this," she replied, motioning between them. "For a moment, I thought..."

"What?" He asked oh so softly, his handsome face back in place. Though the eyes were still... menacing.

She crossed her arms, sighing. "Nothing. I know a lot's happened. Connor's enemy list that grows by the day, Holtz back and holed up somewhere plotting his revenge... Us in..." She smiled softly. "Love. It's been one full week."

Angel smiled back, a little strained. "Yeah, that's an understatement."

Her laughter seemed to break the ice and dangerous tension, pushing back the demon's influence over the soul. When her laughter finally died down, the manpire she fell in love with was back, all traces of the stranger gone. Like a bad dream or some illusion.

"You know, you're gonna freak out Gunn if you keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Talking like me," she replied, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

He grinned, suddenly hugging her and swinging her around.

"Whoa! Angel," she giggled, holding on as he slowed and kept her in his embrace.

"What's with the sudden mood change?" She half joked, though honestly curious with this sudden mood swing.

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging as he laid his chin up top on her head. "Just happy to have you in my life, even if I am starting to think and sound like you."

"Oh... Okay, then swing away and use all my favorite catchy sayings," Cordy sighed happily, snuggling against his chest.

"Um, love birds, don't kill me, but can you come up here for a minute? You really need to see this."

"We're coming, Lorne," Cordy groaned. Her eyes missed the flare of lust when she started to pull him up the stairs.

"Wish we were," he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

Lorne hovered anxiously at the basement door, rubbing his hands and pacing. Connor's soft short cries were heard coming from the office. As Cordy followed Lorne outside with the others, Angel grabbed him another glass of blood and entered the office to check what the entire racket was about.

He shook his head, watching as his friend just looked down at the bundle, looking lost and frightened. Even after encouraging his friend earlier that his son wasn't going to break if he held him, Wesley still seemed frightened of much contact with the child during his crying fits. Angel had chalked it up to him being... well, English.

"Geez, Wes! Don't you know what you're supposed to do?"

Wes looked up from the baby to see Angel standing there, drinking from his glass of blood. Setting the glass aside, Angel walked over to the bassinet and lifted his upset son.

"You pick 'em up when they fuss," he looked down at his now calm baby, and smiled. "Daddy's here."

"Sorry. I don't know what I was... I didn't sleep well," Wesley replied as if reciting a line. He knew he was beginning to sound like an old record, giving the same old excuse.

"Yeah, and you look like hell. Not the fun one, where they burn you with hot pokers for all eternity. But the hardcore one, you know, Nixon and Brittany Spears?"

Angel suddenly laughed and looked down at Connor.

"You're awfully chipper today."

_A little __too __chipper. _

Not catching the suspicious in his friend's voice, Angel shrugged and gave his friend a grin.

"Yeah, it's weird, huh? Maybe it was the earthquake or just being with Cordy, but I barely slept and I have all this energy. God, I could drink a horse!"

He snatched up his glass from the bookstand and took a big gulp.

"Speaking of earthquake: you realize that we have no insurance."

Without a hint of the usual way he would react, Angel replied, "Yeah. Bummer."

"Your room is-"

"The wreck of the Hesperus. I know. Wes - don't be such a worry wart. The best part about owning a hotel is plenty of rooms. I'll just move to another one until we get it fixed... Or better yet, Cordy's offered her place. Maybe I'll-"

"No!" Wesley growled fearfully. Angel's eyebrows shot up. Clearing his throat, he said more gently, "I mean, no, I don't think that would be a good idea. With yours and Cordy's situation, I don't think it would be wise to put yourself in temptations way."

"For the record, last night wasn't hard to keep my distance, Wesley. And, when Cordy and I decide when it's safe to continue with our physical relationship, it would be only our busin-"

"Will you two stop yakking and get out here! Lorne says we got a damsel in distress situation!" Cordy's voice boomed inside the lobby.

Angel rolled his eyes. "This present generation has no concept on patience and manners."

The two left the office to meet the rest outside, watching as Lorne and the girl sitting out on the fountain.

"Everybody, this is my friend Kim. She's... Well, I'll just let you see for yourselves," Lorne announced nervously. He looked at his young friend and smiled encouragingly. "It's alright. They're professionals. Just take it from the chorus, hmm?"

Nodding nervously, Kim began to play her guitar, looking worried as she sang.

"My heart is breaking - in two."

The others smiled as her beautiful voice took on the emotion of the song. Connor wiggled, and then remained still as her voice smoothly sang with clarity and perfect pitch.

"No love, no light left - no yooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrggghhhh!" Her voice and guitar straining and turning into chaos.

Suddenly, her pretty face morphed into that of an ugly, Grey skinned demon, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"I'll hack your eyeballs out and rip your children in two!"

Green drool starts to drip from her mouth. Her face then morphed back to human, and Lorne quickly walked over and wrapped his arms around the shaking, crying girl.

"It's okay. I got ya. It's all right. It's okay." He looks at the shocked others, and sighed. "Catchy finish, huh?"

"Cordelia, help Lorne get Ms. Kim back in the office. Gunn, get the file started and Fred, prepare some of my soothing blend of berry and tangerine tea for our guest."

Fred turned, then paused and said, "I think we should get a sample of the drool. Check out and see if there's something physical other then the supernatural to the morphing thing."

Wesley nodded, surprised that he didn't think of that himself. "Good idea, Fred. I'll get out the equipment."

The group dispersed, getting everything ready and prepared for the new case. Lorne and Cordelia managed to calm the poor young woman as the tea was set up in Wes's office. Both Wes and Fred got to work with the science as Gunn took down notes as Kim gave her information about herself while drinking tea.

"Kim is good people. She came to me a couple of years ago."

"He put me on my true path," she said with a small thankful smile.

"She was throwing her life away in medical school, when she should have been a singer."

"Yeah. Who needs more doctors in the world when you can have singing demons?" Gunn said with his usual lightly laced sarcasm.

"Well, the demon part - is new," Kim confessed.

"Ha! Singing demons, flying nuns. Good one, G!"

Angel takes another gulp from his glass as Gunn and Cordy give him a strange look.

"Well, she hooked up with this band a couple of weeks ago and..." Lorne trailed off, giving Kim the chance to speak.

"They were mellow - organic types. They never touched drugs or played a diminished chord."

"I like nuns. How did the flying nun fly anyway?" Angel asked no one in peticular, rolling the glass in his hand as he looked up with the radiance and rapture of a curious, young, school boy. "Was it God or - magic?"

This time, everyone looked at him with worried, slightly stunned looks. He noticed and shrugged.

"What? You think about these things sometimes." He motions to the new client. "Please, continue!"

"Uhm - well, then they started changing. Stevie, the lead guitar grew a seventh finger like overnight."

Cordelia grimaced as Gunn's brows rose. "Seventh?"

"Well, he already had six. I just thought... I don't really know what I thought. And Raw, the drummer, suddenly sprouted that spiny thing on his back."

"Spiny thing?" Cordelia repeated. "And I thought those fish boys back at Sunnyhell high was weird."

"Well, it gets weirder then that. Lately, they started playing this beyond industrial trash noise funk day and night. And then it happened to me." The blond shook her head mournfully. "You saw it. - Am I gonna turn into that?"

"No." Wesley replied, turning from the microscope to answer the frightened young singer. "You're human. They're not. What's happening isn't permanent. It's just an infection."

"Which you can get rid of by taking twenty milligrams of Cylenthium powder twice a day for a month," Fred replied as she joined Wesley's side, not noticing the way he stiffened while gazing at her with a mixture of admiration and pain.

"Mystical antibiotic. I'll get you some," Lorne further described while patting her hand.

Fred held up a glass slide, eyeing it as she described her and Wesley's findings. "I thought your saliva was suspect. What with being green and all... No offense, Lorne. Under the microscope it showed traces of Penloxia."

"Oh, they're Wraith-ers," Lorne said with a renewed understanding.

"Wraith-ers?" Kim repeated.

Wesley grabbed one of his books off the shelf, leafing through the pages. "Demons that can make themselves look human - for a time."

He then proceeded to show her the entry in the book, the sketches of the Wraith-er demons and the different metamorphous stages from human guise to demon reality. Kim wrinkled her nose as Gunn grabbed the book to get a look at the demon.

"Why musicians, though?" Cordy asked as she joined Gunn in looking at the book.

"For the chicks. Musicians get the chicks!" Angel answered with enthusiasm. Noticing the strange looks, the vampire further startled his friends with a roll of his eyes. "What? They're gonna appear as dentists? Let's take 'em out." He looked at the blond client and asked, "Where are they?"

"In a rehearsal space. It's an old loading dock behind the shop'n'go in Echo park."

Connor's sharp cry distracted his father for a second as he went to pick up the discontented infant. "Don't worry, little man. Daddy's got it all taken care of, and will go save the day as soon as Uncle Wes tells him if this demon situation should end peacefully or in a physical way."

"You'll have to kill them. It's the only thing you can do with Wraith-ers. You, Gunn, Cordy, and Fred can go. Lorne, stay here with the baby. I have some business to take care of."

"Guess I'll keep my work out clothes on after all. I really don't want to ruin yet another designer original... Well, knock off... of a knock off," Cordy sighed dramatically, walking over to the weapons cabinet where Angel was showing their kid his favorite broad sword. Fred still looked uneasy about the Wraith-er thing. Especially after catching a glimpse of how the book described them.

"Um, not to sound spineless or having no faith in us, but shouldn't we get more backup for this thing? Maybe a certain Pylean champion. I'm sure he hasn't gone-"

"No," Angel replied with a low rumble. "He's off on his own journey and being a champion where he's _actually _needed. As long as _I'm _around, the two pansies will be a piece of cake."

Gunn chuckled, shaking his head as Cordy gave her boyfriend a sharp glance, not liking his tone one bit.

"Three - actually," Kim added as Lorne led her to the couch in the lobby.

From the uncertain looks from Cordelia and Fred, Angel snorted and waved off their concern as Lorne took the gurgling baby. "Come on! I've faced worse. Besides, I'm up for a little kick-ass!"

Angel mimicked some shadow boxing, his movements fast and full of energy. "Who's with me?"

**A**

A man in his early twenties punches a vampire in a chain harness at Holtz's base of operations. The vampire snarls with each blow, his beastly eyes feral and animalistic. Justine, who's holding the end of the chain from the harness, nods her head in approval as the vampire grimaces in pain with each heavy thud.

"Good."

The man smirks, and hesitates just for a second as he prepared to perform a move he's been practicing for over a week now. But his pause was a blunder, giving the angry vampire an opening to go from defensive to on the offensive. He swings, causing the startled man to stumble back. Justine's look darkens at this little slip.

"He'd be sucking the life out of you right about now, Rick. Never take your eyes off a vampire. You have to feel where your fellow soldiers are! You can trust each other with your lives!"

To further prove her point, she pulls the vampire back to face her. With an enraged snarl, the vampire swings and misses as the red head skillfully dodges and counteracts. With a swift kick, quickly she wraps the chain around the unfortunate demon and humiliatingly forces it to its knees.

"Never... Ever... trust a bloodsucker," Justine replies, tossing the vampire behind her. "Keep practicing!"

One of the followers grabs the chain and hooks it back to the wall. The vampire crumbles into a fetal position, growling like a wounded animal.

Justine followed Holtz as he left the room to settle in his area where all their papers and surveillance pictures were placed. The young woman paused by his side, noticing the troubled look on his noble face.

"I don't like it."

Justine shrugged. "They'll learn or they'll die."

Holtz blinked, and then shook his head as he gave the Styrofoam cup a displeased glare. "Oh, not that. They're coming right along. I... I don't like tea in these cotton cups."

Justine barely contained her amused grin. "It's called Styrofoam - and I'll get you some China ones."

"Thank you, Justine," Holtz murmured sincerely. Then the almost warm look vanished as his usual determined one came up. "Are you ready?"

Like her earlier pupil, she hesitated for a second. "Yes."

"What is it you're not sure of - is it me?"

Justine shook her head vehemently. "No! It's..."

"Yes? Go on. You can tell me," Holtz replied in a soft, assuring tone. Meanwhile, his hand slipped in his coat packet.

Justine sighed. She hated how that irrational part of her brain seemed to still wander if killing these people was the right thing or not.

"That woman, Cordelia Chase. The way she looks at him and the way he looks at her... And the rest of them, other than working with the leech, they seem like good people. And yet, when this whole thing goes down, we're probably going to end up killing most of them."

"We may end up killing all of them."

"I'd follow you through the gates of hell to kill vampires, Daniel. You know that," Justine said earnestly. She then gave another glance at the pictures, a sadness overcoming her outlook on the plan. Could people who look so... at peace really be evil? "But I'm starting to wander if we should handle the humans differently then Angelus."

"But people - even evil people who help vampires," Holtz began to say as he pulled the knife out, hiding it behind his back. "Are another kettle of fish."

Holtz waited patiently for her response, hoping for her sake that she would get back on the program. Doubt would only hinder his plans, and when it came down to it, he wanted a person guarding his back who was willing to go the distance. Even if it meant damning themselves.

Justine was struggling with her conscious. At first, she killed vampires out of vengeance. After all, it was the only thing she had left. Then Holtz came along and directed that hate and need for vengeance on a better path. He taught her many things, and one of them was that there was a bigger picture then that of the death of her twin sister. She wasn't alone. There were others like her out there. And that she could find purpose killing the vermin from ripping other families apart while finding justice... But none of the lessons were on killing those that they protected.

But, they did work for the Scourge, and willingly. Not caring that he murdered thousands, looking the other way just because of a gypsy curse. And that made them just as guilty as he was.

"They chose Angel. That makes them enemy soldiers."

"So I guess that makes it alright."

And speaking of the devil's imp...

"Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. How nice to see you again," Holtz replied politely, grabbing an apple as two of their men bring the glaring Englishman toward him and Justine.

"What the hell do you want?" Justine snarled.

"Don't be rude, Justine. He's our guest."

Giving a meaningful look at the two men holding Wesley's arms, they step back and release him. Wesley never takes his eyes off of Holtz as the old man looks him over. He didn't need a mirror to show how tired and haggard he looked.

"And in the throes of a very difficult decision, I'd imagine."

Using the knife to cut a slice of the apple, he offers it to Wes. "You want some apple?"

"No, thank you. That's not why I came."

"You have made you decision then?"

Decision. If that is what he preferred to call it. More like no choice. But he wasn't about to let his dangerous vengeance seeking man know of his inner turmoil.

"I'm here to tell you to stay away from my people... That includes Angel and his son."

"You know that I cannot do that. Whatever person or thing in danger of the vampire is my business. Has been far before you were born."

"As it is my business. I am not blind or naive as you presume, Holtz. I do see the present danger that surrounds Angel."

"And those he keeps closest," Holtz replied, motioning to the picture of Cordelia, Connor, and Angel. "Tell me, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, has the demon been showing small snatches of his natural instincts? Smelling the infant's neck, possessive over his lover, his morbid sense of humor breaching the surface?"

Wesley did not answer his stance tense and defiant. Holtz shook his head, solemn and all knowing.

"Of course it has. And you have seen it, probably more so then the others. So forgive me when I don't believe your blatant lie for being here. For if that was your purpose, I would be facing Angelus and his followers this very moment as well. And believe me when I say this, I will kill all of them, even you to rid the world of the demon. It is the only way to protect the child, to prevent the prophecy of coming to pass... That is, unless you came here to tell me of another way."

The corner of Holtz's mouth quirked up when Wesley's eyes spoke of his decision. One he tried to put off as long as possible since waking up in the wee morning hours.

"Yes, I have."

**A**

The Wraith-ers loud, funky, industrial music could be heard from outside. Hell, Angel didn't have to be a vampire to hear it and the crappy lyrics. It was utter chaos and confusion, and the lead guitarist was clearly out of tune. Or maybe he did that on purpose. Either way, Angel wanted the grating music to stop its havoc on his sensitive vampire hearing. The only good thing about it was the way its destructive noise had his demon busting at the seams, waiting to rip into flesh and to cause pain and havoc.

Waiting under the blanket in the back seat as the others instructed him to do wasn't easy. His demonic face shifting back and forth as his patience was stretched as far as it could go. The violent lyrics had body limbs and blood dancing around in his highly imaginative mind. Razor sharp fangs bared as his barrowed blood burned with the anticipation of violence and the kill. Not once did he question the way his instinctual craving for pain and mayhem was so easily breaching the surface of his usual tight control. The meal he had before leaving still giving him a high that filled him with energy and the giddiness of a fledgling tasting human blood for the first time.

The door to the Plymouth was flung open as the window nearby was shattered. The music ended abruptly as Angel leaped out of the car and followed the girls inside the warehouse. Once inside, he flung the blanket to the side, his eyes zeroing in on the want to-bee rock stars. The two human, punk dressed groupies dispersed over to the side, leaving the demons to their horrible fate.

"Dude! You're paying for that window," the lead singer declared, nodding his humanoid like face while motioning toward the fang gang's entrance.

"Like hell we are," Cordy replied, giving the Wraith-ers a disgusted look. Definitely weirder, and very much 'Ew-er' then the fish boys. "We're the ones suffering from that crap you call music. God, I rather listen to my boyfriend sing Copacabana on a Megaphone!"

"Hey baby, don't be hatin'. This isn't even the whole band. We got this killer chick who sings," the singer declared, giving a leer and a wink in Fred's direction. "Tell the 'A' and 'R' peeps all about her, guys."

"Yeah, she's like hot and has this killer voice goin' for her, dudes," replied the drummer, his gaze never leaving Cordelia's breasts. This didn't go unnoticed by the vampire.

"We're not the 'A' and 'R' guys. We're here to kill you," Angel replied in a soft voice. The three demons should have noticed the cold tone in his voice and the way his eyes spoke promises of a painful death. But Wraith-ers are not the sharpest knives in the bunch. If they were, they would at least attempt to flee, even though it wouldn't have done much good.

"Ah, dude, they wanna kill us," the drummer said with a surprised look. He joined his buddy's side, shaking his head. "A real bummer."

"I get first ride on the little sweet thing," the lead singer mentioned with a creepy leer. Fred shivered as her boyfriend told the singer just what he was going to do to him if he tried.

Ignoring the sputtering human, the drummer added with a lustful grin, "Fine by me. As long as I get some of the mouthy bitch. I'm gonna tear that ass up!"

The drummer then leaps off the stage, his eyes on Cordeila. Gunn snarled as he slammed the Wraith-er across his jaw with the crossbow, the groupies now screaming when blood splattered on their punk rock boots.

"Get them out of here!" Gunn ordered Fred as the other two demons jumped down and joined their snarling demon friend.

"Be careful!" Fred replied as she led the groupies out of the building.

Cordelia joined Gunn's side, standing in a defensive manner with the sword. The three Wraith-ers began to square off with the A.I. team, and then came to a sudden stop. Their grotesque faces looked unsure and afraid, taking a step back. Gunn and Cordy shared a grin.

"Oh, come on! Take it like a demon," Gunn jeered.

A deep, predatory growl is heard behind the two, capturing their attention. What greets them sparks fear and awe in the two surprised humans, though fear was the dominant emotion. Angel's lips were curled back as he bares his fangs and row of razor sharp teeth, made for tearing and mauling flesh. The pupils in his yellow eyes were dilated, almost overwhelming the demonic color. The picture the vampire presented was feral and beastly, no signs of humanity in sight. For a moment, Gunn considered turning his weapon on his friend, but quickly reigned in his gut reaction. Angel was one of them, not the enemy. And yet, times like this he wandered about that.

With a hungry roar, Angel leaped over his two human family members and tackled all three Wraith-ers at once. His fists, feet, and teeth were used as he lay into the demons like there was no tomorrow. Gunn and Cordelia stood by as Angel switched from his lethal, karate grace to that of an animal, then back again. The demons honestly tried to fight back, but they didn't have his rage and lust for violence, or his years of perfecting those traits. That was clear when he ripped one of the spines off the lead singer and stabbed the guitarist foot to the floor, pinning him in place.

Cordelia trembled as the drummer turned and attempted to flee. Gunn kicked him in the privates, dropping him to the ground. He aimed the crossbow at his jugular, but never got to make his kill. While tearing off the arm of the lead singer, Angel turned and grabbed the demon by his dyed hair and flings him back where his screaming buddies were. For a moment, Cordy almost felt sorry for the Wraith-er. For Angel wasn't aiming for the usual quick deaths. No, this beast version of her lover and best friend was taking his time in making their deaths as painful and gruesome as possible. This was a side of Angel she never met, not even when she met his soulless half in good old' Sunnydale.

This was primal. This was violence in its purest form. This made Jason, Freddy, and Hannibal Lector look like ass-pansies.

"Please! We'll leave this city," squealed the drummer.

Angel's right fist burst through the guitarist's lower stomach, and quickly disemboweled him with one quick move. The rancid smell and visual of this display had Cordy dry retching, and Gunn turning a shade of green. But not for one second did they take their eyes of the blood show. Like a car wreck and its curious observers, neither could they turn and walk away from the scene.

Chuckling, Angel ripped off the other arm of the lead singer, who was now barely alive on the floor. Turning toward the bloody drummer, the vampire came and towered over the demon.

"You were going to touch my woman. Your exact words were, 'As long as I get some of the mouthy bitch. I'm gonna tear that ass up,'" Angel rasped, his growls making his words almost unrecognizable. "That bitch is mine. The only one who gets to tear anything on that delectable body is me. Got it?"

"Bitch!" Cordy ranted, shocked that for the second time that day her boyfriend called her that. Despite the anger and hurt in her voice, the seer felt terrified of this vampire that resembled nothing of the dork she fell in love with.

"Yes! She's your bitch, not mine," the demon whimpered, trying to scoot away from the psycho. Angel grabbed his left leg and pulled him back.

"Glad we understand each other," Angle replied with a feral grin. Then he proceeded to beat the Wraith-er with his buddy's leg. When the demon's cries faded into incoherent whimpers, Angel dropped the limb and ripped the musician into pieces.

Satisfied with his work, Angel turn and waved at the others with the arm of the drummer, in which it still clutched the drum stick. Fred, who was standing at the shadowed entrance, and his lover and young friend all looked at him in silence. Nothing could be said to correctly describe what they were feeling.

"Well, that was fun," Angel announced, his tongue licking his fangs.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Decided to end it with that mental image. Seriously, if you go to bed after reading that and _not _dream of said vampire and his fangs, then… you're disturbed! Okay, you're not. But I am. Seriously….. Disturbed…. So review so the disturb-ness will leave.


	5. Chapter 5:Something's So Not Coacher

**A/N: **And here we are. Chapter five.

* * *

><p><strong>Traitor Or Friend?<strong>

**Chapter 5: Something's So Not Coacher Here**

It was worse than he feared. Every person in this mad man's army were prepared to follow him into battle without a second thought to reason and just who they were going to kill. All of these individuals could have been called allies and friend if circumstances were different. Both his and Holtz's team had similar goals when it came to protecting this city from its horrors. He had hoped that this common ground would be a lead way to peace talks, to stop any senseless bloodshed. His hopes dashed as soon as he heard part of Justine and Holtz's conversation. But still, he must try and persuade all of them that he will do what must be done. Even though it meant betraying everyone he loved.

"I don't want to see anyone get hurt. Your soldiers - or mine."

The older English gentleman nodded with understanding. "I share your hatred of violence, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, and I've meted out a good deal less of it in my lifetime than Angelus has in his."

Wesley's eyes hardened at the mention of the Scourge of Europe. "Angel!"

"Whatever you wish to call him. I will never agree that he has somehow been absolved from that past by the presence of his soul."

"He's a vampire. End of discussion." Justine's tone giving no opening for reasoning of any kind. She took a couple of steps forward, holding up a knife. Something about this vampire groupie rubbed her the wrong way. "And I'd bet you a dollar this one's here to stab us in the back."

Wes looked at the hard looking young woman, not worried in the least of her threatening stance. He didn't have to know her to read her life story.

"Who did you lose?"

"What?"

"You're here in Holtz's army - ready to kill others, die for the cause. You must have lost someone very important to you."

Justine pictured sinking her knife in the Bastard's gut, wiping the pity away in his eyes. "That's none of your business!"

"Her twin sister Julia was murdered by vampires," Holtz replied, ignoring her hurt and shocked expression.

"You lost family. I'm sorry." He took a few steps closer, his eyes refusing to allow hers to break away from his compassionate gaze. "Angel and the people I work with are _my _family - and when I say I don't want to see anyone to get hurt..."

Faster then she blinked, Wesley grabbed her knife hand and twists her around against him, grabbing her throat with his other hand.

"I mostly mean them."

Holtz held up his hand to stop the rest of his guys from interfering. His and Justine eyes meet as she struggles uselessly against Wesley's strong grip, gasping as his hands squeeze tighter around her throat.

"But I don't stab people in the back."

There was a moment of silence. Though the room was filled with tense and angry people, only two souls seemed to exist as their eyes shared an understanding. Holtz saw the honest truth and determination in his fellow countryman's eyes, and the pain of what he must do simmering under the surface. Nodding, Holtz took a step forward toward the pair, his hand reaching out to take the knife from Justine's hand twisted behind her back.

"You're an honest man. I trust you."

Justine nearly fell flat on her face when she was suddenly pushed roughly into Holtz's arms. Coughing, she rubbed her throat and glared at the ex-watcher. Her eyes made a silent promise to extract revenge on the vampire's lackey.

"And you can trust me."

"It's funny. I don't."

Backing away, Holtz seated himself on the edge of his desk. "Well, your problem isn't me right now. Your problem is your friend is going to kill his own child. You know you have to do something about it. - You know if you don't, I will." Standing back up and stepping toward Wesley, he continued when the younger man opened his mouth to make a retort. "Don't misunderstand me. I won't stand by while an innocent child is murdered - but I won't attack and endanger other innocent lives unless I'm forced to."

There was no way to argue with that. The burning honesty in his eyes spoke at least that much, telling Wesley more than his words.

"How long do I have?"

"I'll give you one day." Holtz turns around and resumes his perch on his desk. "You may not trust me, but I trust you to do what's right... One day. After that..." Holtz paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. _"everyone_ will get hurt."

After a beat, Wes turned and left without another word.

Standing back up, Holtz turned and looked at his army. It was time.

"The plan is in action. I want everyone ready by night fall."

With some pleased chuckles and shouts of excitement, the group dispersed to make the proper preparations. Justine remained rooted to her spot, staring at the doors. Holtz's voice shifted her troubled thoughts back to the preparations at hand.

"This is it, Justine. The waiting is finally over."

"Yeah, guess it is."

"He will take the child soon after the sun sets. We'll give him some time, considering how busy the hotel is. The plan will more than likely be tweaked a little, but the little changes are nothing compared to what you must do. Everything we discussed depends on your dedication and willingness to do what is right, no matter the price. But, I have faith in you, Justine. In the heat of the moment, I know you will not fail me." Holtz grabbed a picture of Cordelia and Connor from a file on his desk. "And I want you to know that I have taken your suggestion earlier on the woman. If in fact any important part of our plan does not carry through, then you should know that I have the twins and Aubrey watching this very minute. Awaiting orders for what needs to be done."

Silence only greeted him. Turning around, he found himself relatively alone.

Sahjhan, who had been watching the entire exchange with Wesley, narrowed his human glammer eyes. Knowing the full scope of Holtz's plans didn't make him any happier. But at least he knew what to expect, even though the future kept changing chaotically. Now, he knew why it couldn't stick to a single story line where every twist ended with him being killed. It was because of the English twit he had brought through space and time and his whole sneaky plans. Well, this time, he knew what to do. Like his mother always said, there's more than one way to skin a human. 1087 ways to be exact.

**A**

Lorne was having a nice time with the little nipper. It sort of made up for doing the whole babysitting thing for free. Out of everyone there, Connor made an excellent audience to perform for. Heck, the kid had better taste in music and humor then his old man. Instead of scowling and walking away when he performed his version of 'Lady Marmalade', the baby would grin and coo with eyes twinkling with avid interest. If he had his way, (and he will) this little person will learn how to actually sing. Someone (Other than himself, of course) has to learn how to carry a tune. The humans and their champ here were hopeless in that category.

Getting back to the present, Lorne was currently enjoying entertaining his captivated audience that included a whole string of stuffed animals on the counter, with a little story of great performers of old.

"So, Sammy's at the Flamingo, and Frank, Dino, Peter, Joey, and Shirley are all front row center. Well, Sammy starts singing 'I Did It My Way' then he stops and says, 'I can't sing this song in front of you, Frank.'"

Connor coos happily, earning him a grin from his favorite, green babysitter.

"The crowd loves it. They're laughing. Ha, ha, ha, ha. So, Frank calls out, 'Hey, you're short, you're one-eyed, and I heard somewhere you're Jewish. Don't be intimidated!' The crowd goes wild!"

Lorne breaks off when the heroes returned from their mission. From the looks of things, nobody lost any limbs.

"So, how'd it go?"

"The Wraith-ers are no more," Gunn answered, looking at the vampire with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

"Tore 'em apart," Angel replied honestly, his face strained as he swept pass Lorne and his son without a second glance.

"Literally," Fred further explained, a look of queasiness passing through. Cordy was more verbal with her thoughts toward the subject.

"Mr. Bipolar over there went all Hulk on the Wraith-er losers! This is why the three of us are still all April fresh, while Mr. Hyde over there is covered in demon guts and gore."

The panic rolling off of the princess had Lorne's head reeling, he took a step away to recover and looked at the champ who's aura was doing the darkness dance. Shifting from colors of light and strength to scary black and blood red streaks mixing and trying to dominate. The colors became further chaotic as he drank his cold blood with a hunger of a starving vampire. Hence the Bipolar reference.

Figuring that the mood in the hotel was getting a little too tense, he turned to the one thing that seemed to always brighten up the atmosphere. Little Blue eyes.

"He has been so good the whole time his mommy and daddy's been gone." Angel gulps the blood again and again, now almost to the bottom. "Do you miss your mommy and daddy? They're right here."

At the mention of the 'M' and 'D' word, the baby begins to squirm with impatience.

"Hey, Angel, I think Connor needs some papa-love."

His grip on his glass grew tight. "He needs a lot of things. All day, every day."

"Well, duh! He's a kid. That's generally-"

Angel's stormy eyes snapped up to his girlfriend's, shutting her up instantly. "Connor needs a bath, Connor needs a bottle, Conner needs to sleep with us when you decide that you're not in the mood!"

Cordelia gasped, taken aback by his words and the menace directed toward her and the bassinet.

"What Connor needs to do is grow up!"

"Whoa, there, grumpy-bear! Is something wrong?" Lorne asked, placing a hand protectively on the edge of Connor's bassinet.

"Gosh, no, Lorne, everything's just great!" Angel replied with exaggerated happiness. Connor begins to fuss. As sudden as the flick of a switch, the handsome grin turned into a pissed look of a man about to snap, crackle, and pop. "I got a kid that cries, pees, and moans, and never gives me a moment to myself."

Connor's little fussing noises turn into all out wails. Cordelia immediately goes to the bassinet and begins to say soft, comforting words. "Sh, baby-face. Everything is alright."

The sight of his lover giving soft touching and whispering sweet nothings in his son's ear had rage boiling over. When all this time, she needed to get her ass over there and finish what she started earlier down in the basement!

"No, it's really not. Connor, shut up!"

"Don't you dare shout at him!" Cordy growled, putting herself between the line of sight of Angel and the helpless infant. "I don't know what your damage is, Angel, but you need to spank your inner moppet and leave Connor out of this!"

"You want to know what my damage is, hon?" Angel replied with sugary sweetness. His tone couldn't hide violent feelings underneath. "It's you dictating when and where we f-ck. It's you bossing me around and giving the kid all of the attention. It's you and that mouth of yours that never seems to know when to shut up and use it for something more pleasurable!"

Connor's wails were now screams, his face turning purple as his little body stiffened from all the shouting and bad vibes.

"Now I know where the damn kid gets it from! Shut the hell up, Connor!"

Cordelia grabbed the baby, clutching him tightly to her chest. "What's wrong with you? He's just a baby!"

"He keeps it up he's not gonna be a baby for long!" Angel screamed, throwing his glass of blood at the wall. The shattering of the fragile glass and the smell of the hidden temptation within had Angel freezing in his spot.

"You better get a grip right now!"

Gunn was immediately putting himself between the two in danger of Angel's wrath, aiming his crossbow at the still vampire. Fred joined him, pale, shaking, but determined to protect the two.

Angel just stares at the blood dripping down the wall, then to the others, Lorne, and then back to the wall. All of the rage disappeared as reason set in. What the hell got into him?

Looking at his green friend who now was standing behind him, he asked, "What's wrong with me?"

Lorne couldn't answer. For once, the empath couldn't find anything to say.

"Something's not right."

"You could say that," Gunn retorted, the crossbow lowered once his friend calmed down a bit.

"Ah, I couldn't help but notice - when did you start drinking so much blood?"

"I don't know. A few days ago."

"Where did you get it?" Fred asked, the wheels of her head beginning to turn.

"Same butcher as always. It's - its pig's blood. This last batch just seemed so much more..." Angel trailed off, his mind going over the sensation of how it seemed thicker, sweeter, and filled with so much more than an animal could ever have.

"What?" Gunn piped up, despite feeling grossed out by whatever the answer would be.

After a beat, Angel replied quietly, "Tasty."

Feeling Cordelia's warm hand on his arm as she emerged from behind him, Gunn sighed and placed the crossbow on the counter. He notices Angel flinch when he glanced at Cordelia and Connor, his eyes tortured from the words and thoughts that has been spoken and dwelled upon.

"You were all happy this morning down in the basement, then all..." Cordeila shivered at the memory. "Well, demandy on certain urges. Then you went back to Mr. Sunshine within seconds. I'd say something about all of this stinks. And it isn't just because of our little soul binding link we're creating, either."

Gunn nodded in agreement. His eyes now showing their sudden realization of what had this vamp impersonating Mr. Jackal and Mr. Hyde. "Yeah... Yeah, you were all hyped up this morning. Then you went all Tyson on those demons. Then you kind of crashed. Then you had another drink, and then you started throwing things."

"Mm-hmm, just like my Aunt Viola and her Southern Comfort."

"Great. That's all we need! A vamp hooked on his juice. Is there a twelve step program for blood-aholics?" Cordelia asked with her usual humorous charm, though her light tone didn't chase away the genuine fear that hasn't truly left since the massacre of the Wraith-ers.

"Hey," Angel said with an offended tone. He then pointed at himself and said, "Vampire. Need to drink something red. Doesn't make me a blood-aholic."

"Not unless someone's spiking your drink," Lorne concluded.

Everyone grew quiet, letting that startling statement settle in.

"Let's find out," Fred replied with a suspicious look at the blood on the wall.

**A**

Wesley didn't return to the Hyperion after his little visit with the enemy. Instead, he spent the rest of the daylight hours preparing to leave everything he knows behind. Starting with the bank, he withdrew everything and closed his account. The amount of money would be enough to keep him and another significant other comfortable on the road for at least a year. His answer to the curious bank teller was the truth. He was leaving this city; moving on to a new beginning. His face was all smiles while inside he felt sick. The knot in his stomach was now turning into a large bowling ball.

Each preparation he made was like a hammer pummeling the nail in his own coffin. The reality of the question on the point of him being a traitor or friend was quickly becoming blurred with each action. For the answer could be taken in different ways. Maybe he was both. Either way, he knew that a life would be taken tonight. Either by Angel's hands or Holtz's, someone was going to die unless he could intervene.

And yet, he had another problem. Cordelia. Though she had a nightmare free night, the bond she now was establishing with Angel was another issue to deal with. Despite his extensive study on spells, souls, and vampires, he's found nothing to ease his fears on the subject. Would taking Connor open the seer up more to the demon? Or was it a fluke? Or maybe-

Wesley sat down on the bus bench, rubbing his eyes fiercely. He had to clear his thoughts of all excuses in not carrying out what must be done. Cordelia was just a distraction his still conflicted conscious was bringing up. In the past years of knowing the brunette, he's learned that she could take care of herself. Every painful vision and obstacle in life has molded her into a champion of sorts. She was brave, strong, and loved life. If push came to shove, she would do the unthinkable to save herself and the innocent... Well, he hoped. Honestly, love can be blind.

Looking down at his list, he continued on to the next thing. The baby store.

**A**

Cordy sat down in Wes's office chair, allowing Fred to use her desk to perform the blood tests. Gunn and Lorne helped as best as they could (which wasn't much due to not knowing anything about science) while Angel sat on the island couch, his expression clouded and intimidating. She knew he would rather be upstairs in his room brooding, but out of respect and to prove he wasn't about to go off in the deep end again, he stayed within Gunn's peripheral vision at all times. Sadly, Cordy admitted to herself that she preferred that. Just like the reason why she dragged the bassinet and Connor in the office with her. Fear.

All her doubts that were put to rest were back with a vengeance. Angel's behavior of late now came back with accusations. The guilt over not paying attention to the signs had driven her to the safety of Wesley's office. She hated hiding, but at least here she could at least try and shift through this latest bad thing in their lives while keeping her sanity.

Looking around, she saw the changes in Wesley's office. It was messier then before, and the lack of organization had her wandering if he took some tips of Fred's crazy period to heart. Anyone else wouldn't think much about it. What's a messy desk in the boss's office, right? Well, most bosses were not Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Sure, his desk covered in books was normal, but at least they had a system of some sort. An order to each stack. This looked like a typical, American college student's all night crash session. Papers scattered, books opened and at parts the corners of pages were turned to mark off chapters. One of the no-no's in Wes's rules over his valuable, old books... Something bad must be coming.

Now, Cordy would never admit out loud that she was a snoopy gal. Privacy was a big deal in her books. Her privacy, not others. This is why she reached with her free hand to shift through the papers scattered across the desk. As she did this, she looked down at the curious baby boy beside her in the white bassinet, and smiled.

"Don't worry, sweetie. Mommy's not invading Uncle Wes's privacy. Never would. She's just snooping a bit to see if he's found anything that would help Daddy. That's a totally different thing... And I better not catch you ever doing that, because only Mommy's and Daddy's are allowed to snoop. It's in the proverbial handbook, yes it is!"

As if to make a rebuttal against her explanation, Connor stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry. Scowling, the brunette replied, "How would you know? There could be a parent book out there that says that."

A sound that very much sounded like a 'Pfft!' coming from her treasured little guy pleasantly surprised the sassy brunette.

"Okay, now you're picking up things from me just like your dorky father... You know, that may not be such a bad thing after all," Cordy giggled, attempting to pull a heavy file from underneath a stack of precariously leaning books. "With my witty humor and your Dad's good looks, you can probably become the next-"

And the leaning tower of books fell, startling the occupants in the lobby. Little Connor giggle, waving his little chubby fists as his pretty Mommy blushed, then giving his Daddy and his Uncle Gunn a wide smile.

"Oops! My bad, sorry," she apologized as she quickly popped out of Connor's sight to pick up the books and scattered papers of the file she had tried to get.

"Damn it! You scared me, Cor," Angel scolded his tone much harsher then it would have been without the tainted blood.

"It was an accident, Angel," Cordy replied defensively as she gave him a warning glare.

"Come on, man. Everything's cool. Let's just let Barbie-"

"Get your hands off me," Angel growled, shoving Gunn's gentle grasp roughly away.

Cordy dropped what she had picked up to go try and prevent any more tempers from flaring. But it wasn't the brunette who brought clarity to the situation. It was the little baby boy who though he couldn't see what was going on, could very much hear the rage and hunger in his father's voice and the fear and panic in his mother's. His fearful cry was like a ray of sun burning some sense in his father's blood lust haze. Shaking his head, Angel's face softened as his big brown eyes showed his grief and fear over what he was thinking about doing to his friend and lover.

"I... I'm so... I have to go."

"Angel!"

"Man, that's not a good idea."

Angel grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and slipped it on. But his hasty exit was stopped by surprisingly the green empath as he got in the troubled vampire's personal bubble.

"You're picking a real bad time to have a long walk in your beloved sewers, amigo."

"No, I think it's the perfect time."

"From what I see in that jumpy, freaky aura of yours, I would agree with you. But you're not taking in consideration of the whole Holtz thing and just who might be behind these mood swings," Lorne insisted. His glare softened when the hostility that still simmered underneath the surface mixed with guilt and fear. "Before you go have some time to work whatever is in your system out, you have to keep in mind that your family needs you here to protect them."

"How do I protect them from myself?"

"By staying to hear the results of the blood test," Cordy replied, hesitantly placing her hand in his.

Angel looked down at their clasped hands, and then shuddered. He reluctantly pulled away, taking off his jacket. Sighing with relief, Cordy slipped back in the office as everyone got back to their posts. Gunn stood ready with his crossbow near the office, Fred with her testing supplies, and Lorne and Angel sitting on the island couch.

Giving up on straightening the giant mess she made, she placed most of the scattered papers and books on the desk with a plop. She tried ignoring the way her hands shook, or the way her heart had started galloping when Angel and Gunn were squaring off with one another. Events of the day now becoming impossible to brush off as another so called 'Off Day' passed by in their complicated lives.

Dark forces were at play, that much was now as obvious as the beauty mark on her face. And said forces were possibly having an impact on the soul tie she and Angel were strengthening together. A small part of her that dealt with survival instinct did bring up things she previously thought she could handle. For loving Angel wasn't easy. Despite of the man he was and still is becoming, when getting down to it, he was still a vampire. A demon. Something that she loved as well, but like many others, has come to separate him from. Even Angel himself refers to Angelus as a third party at times.

As much as her heart rebelled against it, she had to ask herself certain questions that she believed she had known the answer to. How much of his demon aspects has Angel really allowed them to see? He himself has told her that there was darkness inside that has never really left. That little conversation with him had occurred after she had finally forgiven him for his beige abandonment period. At the time, she had told him that though she had to have time to fully trust him again, she knew that he would not succumb to his dark instincts. That he was more of a man than a demon with a man's aspects. That he wasn't Angelus, though he had her believing that he was close to that after threatening her that one night over a stupid book. His self hatred when she brought that up had her quickly hugging the Brooder and telling him that in her books, the goodness she saw in her time of really knowing him has far outweighed the badness.

Now, she can admit that she was naive then; even now. She had thought that she knew most of the questions and the answers that dealt with Angel. But did she ever consider what she was doing when entering a relationship with him? She _thought _she did. But in the end, she never really, truly thought about what she was doing in the detailed sense. In her mind, it was questions on Angel being the one she was truly going to risk her heart to and if she can trust her heart to him or not. She never asked the question _what _she was giving herself too. And yes, she still is madly in love with him. But the realization that she was in love with a VAMPIRE with a SOUL was completely beginning to sink in, and all the complications that it came with.

And God, that scared her! She didn't lie before about loving him or the good far out weighing the bad, but now after experiencing things that she always associated with Angelus, well... For the first time, she was seeing everything as a whole, and what she had gotten herself into. She had thought she understood what it was to love a vampire. But now... it made her truly question everything. Even if they find something in the blood... the questions stilled remained. The most important one of all dealt if she could actually do this. She would have to fully trust Angel enough to control himself around herself and Connor. To trust not just the soul, but the demon within...

Closing the door softly, she went and sat down back at the desk. She gave the now quiet Connor a wobbly smile as she dialed the one other person she truly felt could understand. Who despite of his close relationship with Angel; could look beyond the good and bad and see what the others (including herself) were afraid to look at. Wesley was the sane voice of reason, one she needed to listen to for a change.

**A**

You can put Wesley in the middle of a room with books stacked from top to bottom in every kind of language known to man and demon, and then tell him he has to translate and organize it by the next morning, or else face a horrible, cruel death by the hands of his father... And he wouldn't even bat an eye. Once a Watcher, always a scholar lovin' watcher. But place him in a store filled with things entirely for infants from newborn to two year olds, well... then he'll be completely lost and babbling like some drunken' idiot. Basically, an ex-watcher's worst nightmare.

The Watchers Council never prepared him for this.

So, in typical man fashion that has never had any siblings or anything to do much with infants, he grabbed two or three of everything. The whole time while shopping, he spent wishing that he had paid more attention when Cordy and Fred would show up with Connor's necessities.

Thankfully, some amused mothers soon straightened him out on certain things. Which name brand was the best and what not to get. Tips on things that the baby book he's been skimming through had written nothing about. The only thing that the book and the kind hearted women all agreed on was that it took having a child and raising it yourself to really know what's best. Or as one mother of four had said, "Just wing it. Sure, you'll screw up and possibly be the reason why your kids are in expensive therapy for the rest of their lives. But at least you can say you survived the teething years to tell the tale."

It took the poor shaken ex-Watcher five minutes to realize that she was only teasing him. He didn't find it very funny.

By the time he got enough baby supplies to last at least two months, he breathed a sigh of relief. Of course the relief didn't stick around, thanks to the giant knotted ball in his gut. Betrayal; the word that kept him company throughout his shopping. And Traitor; a continual accusing finger pointed at him without any compassion in sight. His heart was hammering, and his face was covered in sweat as he placed all the things for Connor in the back of his SUV. At this moment, he could say he truly hated himself, Holtz, Loa, and the prophecy. But mostly, himself.

The vibration of his cell in his pocket startled him. He cursed as he dropped his keys, the metal clanging as it skidded underneath his vehicle. Sighing, he looked at the cell with a renewed annoyance and was tempted to just throw the damn thing away. It's not like he needed it when he... takes Connor and himself on a little trip. He especially didn't want to answer it when seeing the familiar number on the green screen.

The terrible thought of Holtz going back on his word and attacking his family now had him finally deciding in favor of answering the call. This action could very well be the reason of the changed and dramatic events yet to come.

"Yes?"

"Wes, where are you?"

The Englishman winced when hearing Cordelia's frightened voice. Dread followed.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything. God Wesley, you really need to be here. Like now would be nice!"

Wesley grunted as he eased himself on the basement floor of the underground car lot. His piercing blue eyes zeroed in on the keys, which were not exactly close.

"Cordelia, I'm kind of busy-"

"Wesley, this isn't a happy call. This is a 'Big'Bad' kind of call. And..."

Wesley paused in his efforts, his heart clenching when hearing the tearful hitch in her voice.

"Something's... wrong. Wes, we need you here_."_

"Cordy, is this call about... Angel?"

The pause on the other line was all he needed to know. With one last reach, his fingers clasped around the keys. Wesley quickly unlocked his car as he made a change in plans. Though if it was because of the cry for help in her voice that did it or if it was an unconscious action to have his best friend to talk him out of what he set out to do would remain unanswered... Until after he talked to her face to face.

"I'm just now getting in my car. Can you meet me at my flat soon?"

"Um... no. This is kind of the reason you need to be here. Something happened today when we were taking care of those Wraith-ers. Hell, even before that. Fred and-"

"Cordelia, my time is short, leaving me with no room for error," Wesley snapped at the mention of Fred's name. "You either meet me at my place by sunset, or..."

"Or what? God, what the hell is up with you lately?"

Wesley rubbed his throbbing temple with one hand at the angry and hurt lilt to his friend's voice.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for..."

There was another lengthy pause, till finally Cordy broke the awkward silence.

"Looks like we both have some things to discuss. Listen, Fred's working on-... It shouldn't be much longer before I can leave. Just in case, don't leave if I'm not there by sunset. At least wait till nine. Alright?"

Nine was pushing it. The sun sets around 7:30 this time of year. Holtz only gave him a day, which he knew would most likely mean half that time.

"I'll give you until eight, that's all the time I can spare for the time being. If you visit any later than that, you will find the apartment empty."

He hung up before she could argue. For already, he's already altered his plans far too much. And deep down, he knew whatever Cordelia had to tell him would affect his decision on what he had to do to stop the prophecy from coming true. If it was to be for the good or the bad, well... Guess it depends on this roll of fate's dice.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Finally, we're getting somewhere! Since you're done reading this chapter, how about leaving a review? No? Well 'Pfft!' to you too! LoL


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